Like a vulture, I circle around the lifeless remains, a pilgrim to death’s quiet silence. At midnight, the stars bow in reverence to the moon’s cold light, as if caught in the grip of an ancient, dark spell. My hands, bound by its caress, are helpless, yearning. Sink into my eyes once more, feel the depth of everything unsaid.
Dogmas, desires, beliefs, and denials—they all melt away, burned away in the fire of a lifetime. Yet, in the fleeting moment of clarity, something is illuminated. Madness scratches at the edges of my mind, and I feel it in return—its jagged touch. And still, all I want is to crave you again.
I rise, I fall, like a puppet on strings, a kite pulled by unseen winds. A bead held in one moment, slipping through my fingers in the next—life is a game of constant temptation, a push and pull, an urge too strong to resist. The lines of fate become engraved, tangled once again in a web I cannot escape.
The incense burns, the light flickers, smoke curling in the air, leaving behind only ashes. The candle weeps, its flame slowly dying, while the cigarette is ground into the earth, shattered and spent. A wind chime falls silent at the threshold of my soul, and the flame departs once more, prowling into the darkness, never to return.